


Pedigree

by HigherMagic



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Bathroom Sex, Biting, Collars, Coming Untouched, Creampie, Dom Rick Grimes, Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Needy Daryl, Puppy Play, Rickyl Writers' Group, Semi-Public Sex, Sub Daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 18:55:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8679451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HigherMagic/pseuds/HigherMagic
Summary: Rick comes home from work and rewards his boy for being good while he was gone.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bennyhatter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/gifts).



> My dearest love Benny wanted the following things: Biting, creampie, dirty talk, good boy, dom!Rick with needy!Daryl, coming untouched, puppy play...and of course I am here to serve. I made a bet with myself that I'd get this done by midnight tonight and SUCK IT ME I DID IT.

The day is still bright and warm when Rick makes it back from his shift, tired to the bones and a little sweaty because of the heat. He closes and locks the door behind him, taking off his hat and settling it on the little table by the door, and undoes the buttons of his uniform shirt, untucking it and letting it hang loosely off his shoulders so that his white shirt is exposed.

He heads upstairs and shucks off the rest of the uniform, changing it out for a pair of jeans and his old grey t-shirt. He runs a hand through his sweat-damp hair, contemplating a shower, but decides against it. He'll just need another one later anyway.

He goes back downstairs and pours himself a glass of water, and then fills the small puppy bowl with it too and places it on its usual spot a little ways away from the fridge. Then he looks up and lets out a low whistle.

He doesn't hear any movement from upstairs, or scrambling sounds from the rest of the place. So Daryl must still be outside where he left him that morning. The sliding doors that connect the kitchen to their backyard is slightly open so that Daryl can nose his way back inside if he needs to, but Rick sees it hasn't been disturbed. He smiles, pulling the door open all the way, and whistles again.

There's a dark shape in the shadow of the high fence Rick had grown specifically to block the view of their backyard from their neighbors. When the days are still warm he knows Daryl likes to spend most of his time outside, and it would probably cause more questions than they're willing to answer, if people could see what they get up to out here.

The shape stirs a little, a small whine coming out that Rick can hear even from where he's standing, and Rick's smile widens, growing soft. "Daryl!" he calls, high and quiet, and then whistles one more time. This time Daryl lifts his head, hair mussed up on one side from sleep, and stretches out. His bare skin is streaked with mud and grass stains, the tag on his collar glinting when he rolls into the sunlight and lets out a little huff.

"There's my good boy," Rick says, a little louder this time, and Daryl perks up at the sound of his voice. His expression goes from sleepy and lax to excited, a playful yip coming out of his mouth as he scrambles to his feet and runs towards Rick, barreling into his arms. He doesn't tend to crawl when he's outside just because the ground is uncomfortable, especially since it's starting to get cold at night. But as soon as he reaches Rick, he falls to his knees and Rick crouches down so that he can comb his fingers through Daryl's unruly hair, and laughs when Daryl lands little kitten licks all over his exposed neck and face. "I missed you too, baby. You been good?"

Daryl whines softly, rubbing his head into Rick's hands like a touch-starved cat. Rick smiles and pets him as much as Daryl demands, scratching at the back of his neck above the collar, running his hands through the man's hair and across his bare shoulders.

Daryl's skin is cool to the touch since he was lying in the shade, warming up quickly in the sun, tanned from many hours spent outside. Rick smiles and straightens, his hand resting on Daryl's head as Daryl rears up on his knees and pushes his hands against Rick's stomach, demanding more petting.

"You thirsty, baby?" Rick asks, smiling when Daryl licks his hips, panting. Rick steps back and guides Daryl inside, and Daryl crawls in past him and goes to the water dish. Rick goes back to his glass of water, drinking slowly as he watches Daryl bend down to lap delicately at the water in his bowl.

His forearms are braced on either side of the bowl, knees tucked up tight to his chest so that he can lower himself enough to get at it. Rick can't really see his face since his hair is such a mess, and falls forward and hides it, but he can catch the little, darting laps of Daryl's pink tongue as he drinks. He shifts his weight, biting his lower lip as he feels himself start the harden. He should cut Daryl's hair so that the view is better, but he _loves_ how long it is now, too. He loves petting through it when Daryl is a puppy, loves tugging on it and guiding his mouth when he's not. Decisions…

Daryl pushes himself up onto his hands and knees when he's done, licking his lips, and then crawls over to Rick's side. Rick smiles, reaching down to pet through Daryl's hair, earning a soft, purring rumble from his lover.

"C'mon, baby," he says. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Daryl nips at his thumb lightly, yipping in displeasure. He hates baths. Rick grins and sets his cup of water down and heads upstairs and Daryl, of course, follows him anyway. Rick walks slowly so that Daryl can keep up and leads him to the guest bathroom, the one not joining their bedroom. When he's away he keeps that door closed, knowing it's best for Daryl that he doesn't go into the room they share when he's not being a puppy. It confuses the headspace too much for him, and Rick doesn't want Daryl overthinking when he's like this. His puppy deserves to be pampered and cherished and loved.

He goes to the sink and leans against it, tapping on his chest. "Up," he says, and Daryl goes to his knees again, hands on Rick's chest, and then slowly pushes himself up to his feet as well. Rick smiles and lets Daryl nuzzle against him while he quickly undoes Daryl's jeans, pushing them down until it's past his knees. As soon as Daryl is free he goes back to his knees and wriggles free of the clothing. Even though Daryl can be outside totally uncovered and not risk anyone seeing him, Rick insists that he wears jeans to protect his knees and everything else.

Daryl nips at his hands again, wriggling in a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He _really_ doesn't like baths. Rick smiles, kneeling down, and places a soft kiss to Daryl's forehead.

"Get in," he says, nodding to the bathtub and Daryl whines. "No bath, baby, promise. Just wanna clean you up a little."

Daryl licks him on the mouth and climbs in, shivering when the cool porcelain touches his skin, and he whines. Rick hums and flicks on the bath water, letting it run just enough that there's about an inch of warm water in the bottom before he shuts it off.

There's a large plastic cup, one of the commemorative ones movie theatres give out for big releases, under the sink right next to a half-used bottle of lube and Rick smiles, taking both out. Daryl lets out a little whine when he sees the cup and Rick kneels up so that he can reach the sink, turning the water on to warm and putting the cup at an angle under the faucet.

"You're alright, you big wuss," he says fondly when Daryl nips at his free hand, and turns it so that his palm is up and Daryl can rub his cheek against it. His day-old scruff tickles Rick's fingers and he smiles again.

He pulls the cup back when it's half-full and gently guides Daryl up onto his knees. "Stay still," he orders, and pours the cup over one of Daryl's shoulders. The water runs down his chest and back equally, catching on the lines of mud and grass on his skin. Where the water doesn't touch, Daryl's skin breaks out in goose bumps.

Rick sets the cup down and grabs the little green washcloth he uses when Daryl's in his puppy headspace and starts to rub him down, cleaning him of the dirt sticking to his skin. Daryl wiggles happily under the attention, enjoying the scratchy feeling of the washcloth scrubbing him clean and how Rick rubs his other hand along behind it to make sure he gets it all. Rick does this a few times, pouring water over Daryl's chest and legs and making sure he's gotten all of the bigger, more obvious stains out, before he puts the cup back under the water.

"All fours," he orders, smiling when Daryl obeys, more noticeably settled now under Rick's care. Rick cups his hand in the inch of water at the bottom, slightly green now, and mixes it with a squirt of Daryl's shampoo so that his hair is damp as he starts to run his fingers through his boy's hair, working it up to a lather.

Daryl purrs under the attention, tilting his head into Rick's touch no matter where it is. Rick can see that his eyes are half-lidded, his mouth a little open, his shoulders relaxed and his back comfortably bowed. Rick runs his fingers through Daryl's hair idly, playing with it more than cleaning it after a while. Neither of them mind, although Rick is conscious of Daryl's knees and knows he shouldn't be in the bathtub for too long.

He turns off the sink and grabs the now-full cup of water and slowly braces it against Daryl's nape, letting the water pouring over his hair and rinse it out, his free hand working through the long strands to make sure he gets out all the shampoo and catches any stubborn knots. When the cup is empty he sets it to one side and Daryl lets out a sweet little sigh.

Rick smiles, pushing Daryl's hair back from his face, and moves out of the way and lays a towel down on the floor. "Alright, baby, out you get," he says, and Daryl climbs out carefully, wincing when his sore muscles and joints brace against the floor again. "Good boy," Rick praises quietly, kneeling down in the tight space to rub a second towel over Daryl's hair and down his flanks to get rid of most of the water. Then, he sits on the droplet-coated edge of the bathtub, uncaring for the dampness soaking into his clothes, and grabs the bottle of lube.

"Get into position, baby," he says quietly, rubbing the heel of one hand gently against Daryl's lower back, encouraging him to go to his elbows and raise his ass up a little higher for Rick to see. It's close to the position he takes over his water dish, but more open and eager. Rick smiles again. "That's my good boy, my gorgeous boy. Look so good posing for me like that."

Daryl lets out a soft whine, his cock twitching where Rick can see it hanging between his pale thighs. When he first started house-training Daryl he'd had to put a cockring on his puppy because Daryl would get excited and leave messes everywhere. He doesn't now. Rick drags his eyes up Daryl's body, admiring the light that plays between the dips of Daryl's strong back, the dimples just above his ass, the tan skin stretched out and exposed for him to mark and touch as he sees fit.

"Such a pretty boy," Rick whispers, and pulls his hand from the small of Daryl's back so that his thumb can trail, dry, over Daryl's hole. He hears Daryl whimper, a tremor running down his spine and in his thighs, but he doesn't flinch away. Sometimes Daryl doesn't want to play with him like this, but right now he's eager for it, _thirsty_ in a way water won't satisfy.

Rick waits, just a moment longer, for any of the signals Daryl gives him when he's like this, when he doesn't want to go further, but he receives none. He opens the lube bottle and squirts a liberal amount onto his fingers, rubbing them together so that it gets warm.

Rick drags his fingers between Daryl's cheeks, getting him nice and wet so that it drips from his hole to his balls in a teasing, slick slide, before he turns his hand so that just his first finger is resting against Daryl's hole. Daryl whines, shifting his hips, and Rick gently applies pressure until Daryl lets him in, greedy ass swallowing up the first knuckle, the second, with ease.

Daryl's hips roll, a small sound falling from him that sounds like Rick's name, but turns into a growl at the end that's more animal than human. Rick smiles, curling the fingers of his other hand around Daryl's hip, and twists his finger inside of his boy, earning another high-pitched whine. Daryl's thighs are shaking harder.

He works in a second finger and Daryl groans, this desperate and needy thing. His cock jerks and dribbles precome onto the towel below him and Rick smiles.

"Feel good, baby?" he asks, even though he's been with Daryl long enough to know what feels good and what doesn't. Daryl's mouth is slack, he can tell by the sound of his breathing, his face turned to one side and resting against the floor. Through his mess of damp hair Rick can just see the black shine of his leather collar, dark around the flush spreading down his neck.

Daryl whines, pushing his hips back so that his body swallows up more of Rick's fingers, and Rick's smile widens. "Such a greedy boy," he whispers, but indulges his lover and adds a third finger. It goes in less easily than the other two did but Daryl's body accept it after another moment and Rick twists his hand, curling his fingers and pressing them down until he feels that hard, tiny bundle of nerves that Daryl goes so crazy for.

It's not long before Daryl is shaking in earnest now, his cock red and leaking, fingers curling in the towel and scratching at the floor. He whines, baring his teeth, and turns his head so that he can look at Rick with needy, lust-blackened eyes.

Rick grins at him, head cocked to one side. He drives his fingers against Daryl's prostate hard enough to make his eyes roll up in his head and Daryl's entire body twitches, flinching away from the sudden stab of pleasure inside of him.

He makes that sound again, like Rick's name but not quite coherent, not quite human. _God_ but Rick loves him like this, sweaty and strung-out and just _waiting_ for Rick to allow him to let go. Daryl slams his palm against the bathroom door and _howls_.

"That's right, baby," Rick says, his own voice rougher now, affected at the sight of his lover reduced to nothing but motion and desperate sound. Rick can put his own desire on the backburner most of the time, content to be patient and wait until Daryl is a needy, wanton mess that he can use as his own, but there's _something_ about when they play like this that makes it very hard to resist the desire to just pull Daryl back onto his cock and have his boy ride him until they both come. "Speak, Daryl. _Beg_."

Daryl doesn't say much when he's in the headspace, but there are words even his puppy brain knows. " _Rick_ ," he growls, half-garbled, mouth slack and drooling onto the towel. He uses the leverage of the door to fuck back onto Rick's fingers, desperate to get them deeper, like Rick's not already as deep as he can go like this. " _Please_. _Please_ , Master, let me -."

The rest of it is lost to a wrecked moan as Rick goes back to circling his fingers against Daryl's prostate again, too direct to keep him talking, too harsh to let him remain sane. Daryl whines, baring his teeth, his entire body chasing that pressure, that pleasure, he's so close Rick can taste it.

"Come for me, baby," he whispers, and pulls two of the three fingers out when Daryl's body goes abruptly still. His cock twitches and his hips buck as he starts to come, another howl – shaky and raw – escaping him as he does so. This is, Rick imagines, what sirens sounded like to sailors all those years ago. How any man could resist a sight like this, he could never know.

He fucks one finger in and out of Daryl's ass as the boy comes, groaning at the eager clench of Daryl's ass around his finger. He drives it back in when Daryl is done, putting pressing on his sweet spot once again and Daryl moans, wrecked, _pained_. It's a special kind of cruelty Rick likes to indulge every once in a while.

There's another indulgence, now, pushing insistently at the back of his eyes now that he's seen Daryl come. He's so hard it's starting to hurt, and he knows he won't be able to conjure up any kind of mental image or do any of his tricks to calm himself down so that he can keep going.

Daryl is breathing incredibly hard, his cheeks and neck red. He's probably blushing all the way to his stomach. Rick wants to _cover_ him and groom him like he's an animal himself, but he holds himself back, instead sliding to his knees between Daryl's legs.

"Daryl," he growls, sliding his clean hand around Daryl's hip, pushing down his lounge pants with the other so that his cock is free. He lets it rest against Daryl's stretched hole, sucking in a breath and waiting for Daryl to flinch away from him or give him another signal to say he's not okay with this.

Daryl doesn't. He assumes the mounting position again and lets out a quiet whine, pushing his ass back against Rick's cock. " _Please_ ," he moans quietly, grinding back against Rick's cock in slow, deliberate motions.

" _Fuck_ ," Rick growls, using what lube is left on his hand to coat the head of his cock before he starts to guide it in. " _Good_ boy, holy shit Daryl, you're so fucking good -."

They both let out soft groans of pleasure as Rick pushes in, sheathing himself quickly and easily inside of Daryl's lax, willing body. His nails dig into Daryl's hips tightly, pulling Daryl back the rest of the way until their hips and thighs connect.

Daryl whines, shifting his weight, and pushes himself up onto his hands, then just his knees so that he can slide against Rick's chest, and turns his head to lick at Rick's throat and jaw. He lets out another wide, his gorgeous eyes so dark, hidden under his hair. Rick smiles and nuzzles against his hair, breathing in his scent, before he pushes him back down onto his hands and knees.

Daryl goes back to his elbows easily, whining in another soft encouragement, and Rick doesn't hold back. He fucks into Daryl mercilessly, wringing more sweet, excited whines from his boy as he does so. Daryl's ass clenches around him whenever he pulls back, lets him in so easily with every thrust.

Rick growls, one hand moving to Daryl's shoulder, raking down his back. "Gonna come, baby," he says, and Daryl whines and tilts his hips up in encouragement. Rick smirks. "That's where you want it, huh? Want me to come in your greedy ass?"

Daryl's whine is high and thin, needy in a way Rick is intimately familiar with. He knows Daryl is hard again, already, amazingly. He's shaking with overstimulation, his knuckles white around the edge of the towel. Rick sighs and wraps his hands around Daryl's hips again.

"You gonna come again for me, baby? Gonna be a good boy and come on your master's cock?"

Daryl barks out another moan, shoving his forehead against the towel. But he nods – a fast motion, exposing the back of his neck as his back bows and he fucks back onto Rick's cock. It's loud in the bathroom now, hot and humid from the moisture in the air.

Rick bares his teeth and molds himself to Daryl's back, dragging his clean hand through Daryl's damp hair to bare more of his nape, and nips there, just lightly. Daryl moans, a raw thing, savage as though it's been ripped out of him.

"I love you like this," Rick whispers, letting his teeth drag across Daryl's neck to punctuate the words. Daryl shivers, and Rick sees him biting his lower lip. When he's like this, strung-out and needy, Rick's voice and praise calms him, reminds him that he's loved and cherished and that Rick adores him. "On your knees for me, letting me take care of you. Such a good boy I have, so gorgeous and trusting. You're so good for me, Daryl. I'm the luckiest master in the world."

Daryl's cheeks are red from more than just arousal now, Rick knows. He growls and bites at Daryl's nape again, startling a whine out of him and a jerk of his body up against Rick's chest.

"'M close, baby, you gotta come for me," Rick says, running his hands down Daryl's arms and bracing himself on either side of Daryl's chest. They're all cramped up in the small space, Daryl's legs spread wide to make room for Rick, hips arched high. "Tell me what you need."

Daryl shakes his head, growling roughly under his breath. He reaches back with one hand and wraps it around Rick's wrist, before he pulls it to his throat and flattens his hand across Rick's fingers. Rick smiles. The change in position forces more of his weight onto Daryl's shoulders but Daryl can take it, and he presses his hand flat across Daryl's throat, the skin-warm metal and leather of the collar digging into his palm.

Daryl makes a choked-off, whining sound, a shudder running down him that Rick can feel in his own body along every point they are connected. Daryl starts to tighten up, twitching with every thrust, and Rick tightens his hand and bites down, _hard_ , on the back of Daryl's neck when he feels his boy start to really shake.

Daryl writhes beneath him, caught between Rick's hand at his mouth, his cock and the floor, as he comes a second time. Rick _feels_ it this time, this suffocating, hot _wetness_ around his cock, and lets go of Daryl's throat so that he can breathe and grabs hold of whatever part of Daryl his hands find first. He slams in, growling low under his breath and rolling his hips against Daryl like he's trying to get as deep as he possibly can. He feels each twitch, each spurt like lightning behind his eyes, and he knows he's biting down hard enough to leave a tender mark, but Daryl doesn't seem to mind. His boy is almost purring beneath him, languid and lax as he waits for Rick to recover. As soon as Rick lets go with his mouth, Daryl turns his head and rubs his forehead against Rick's cheek and jaw, licking whatever pieces of skin he can.

Rick sighs, pushing himself upright, and pulls out slowly. Daryl doesn't move – in fact pulls his legs together and arches up higher so that as little of Rick's come escapes him as possible, and Rick smiles. He bends down to kiss the sweaty dip of Daryl's spine, and rubs his hands up and down his boy's shaking back.

"That was so good, baby," he says, quiet and adoring. Daryl makes another happy sound, and turns his head so that he can smile at Rick. "Anything hurt?" Daryl shakes his head, and maybe he'll complain about the bite mark when he's human again, but for now Rick is sure he's basking in the afterglow of being so thoroughly fucked, and won't come down for a while.

"Stay right there," Rick orders, and gets to his feet. His knees are a little weak and it feels like he emptied all of his motor function and strength into Daryl's ass, but he forces himself to move past Daryl to the door. He slides through it and rushes to their bedroom so that he can grab one of Daryl's favorite toys, and then hurries back so that his boy isn't left too long without him.

Daryl turns his head to see what Rick is holding and his face lights up. He moves to his elbows and knees again, ready and eager. Rick smiles and crouches down behind him and slides two fingers inside, making sure his boy doesn't need any more lube or stretching. Daryl whines, and turns his head so that Rick can see his upper lip curled back in a warning. So he's sore. Rick makes note of that and reminds himself to make it up to Daryl later.

He rinses the plug in the sink just to be safe, and then gently eases it into Daryl's ass until the bulbous base slides into place. It's one of Rick's personal favorites, and Daryl's too – the tail attachment is a soft brown, ringed with gold-colored fur, and hangs down to midway on Daryl's thighs. The faux fur is soft and just about the same color as Daryl's hair and Rick likes to play with both when he has his boy curled up on the couch with him, dozing after a good fuck or a tiring day.

He pushes himself back to his feet once he's sure the plus is secure, and then opens the door again and guides Daryl up onto his hands and knees, his hand cupping under his boy's jaw and tilting his head up.

"Gorgeous," Rick says, and kneels down, one hand brushing through Daryl's now-mostly-dry hair, the other still holding his jaw with the utmost gentleness. "Love you so much, baby. I'm the luckiest man on Earth."

Daryl smiles – a shy and grateful thing – and ducks his head to put it under Rick's chin. He curls up in the circle of Rick's arms and tucks his arms and hands up against Rick's chest. Rick holds him like that, one hand cradling Daryl's nape, the other arm wrapped around his chest. Daryl licks Rick's neck and Rick places a kiss to his forehead. They stay like that until Daryl shifts in place, ready to move, and Rick leads him down the couch so that they can lounge around and relax until Daryl is ready to stand on his own two feet again.

Then, Rick with take him back to the shower so they can clean up for real, and rub his shoulders and kiss over the bite mark he left and tell him all the same things again – because man, animal, it doesn't matter. Rick adores Daryl with everything he is, and he will dedicate every moment of his life to making sure Daryl knows it.


End file.
